


It Hurts, So Please Remember

by rischaa



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Amnesia, Angst, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Memories, Mutual Pining, victor is so oblivious, with a smidge of, yuuri is heartbroken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9182017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rischaa/pseuds/rischaa
Summary: He rarely smiled, the man he set his eyes on, but when he did, Victor felt his heart throb naturally. It was weird, the way he’d react so naturally around the man’s emotions. He doesn’tevenknow his name.-a.k.a. the Victuuri fic induced withfeels and amnesiathree years into their relationship after the season one and a sprinkle of OtaYuri(because I can)





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote this headcanon on my tumblr about victor getting[ amnesia](http://dark-cruelworld.tumblr.com/post/155115465784/amnesia-hc) and please do read it ( you don't have to) before continuing on. anyways, happy new year, first fic of twenty-seventeen, lez go~ | unbeta'd  
> -  
> this is also to all my friends who i've met through yuri!!! on ice. luv u guys.

He was so confused at what to do, his head spinning on every word being spurted towards him. The man who reserved his own spot every Thursdays and Saturdays all for himself, he watched him- he was a phenomenal skater and there was truly something about him. His program was beautiful and pretty, but so heartfelt towards his own heart.

 _Like it was meant for him. Just for him._  

It was the only thing that made sense to him, the dark-haired man’s free skate program. He could feel the story lay right in front of his very eyes. The man who skated on the crystal glass ice was carefree once and then it breaks as if an illusion. There are several quads all leading him to the ground, his downfall. At the end, he’s standing, his arms pointing at one direction with a calm, morose expression.

It reminds him of something important that had happened in his life, he can’t put his finger on it, but if it was significant enough, _maybe,_ just maybe, he’d remember.

He feels as though, he’s hiding himself from the narrative, as if he doesn’t want him to lay his eyes on him. He was shy and reserved except when he talked to others. He left traces of him on people he interacted with in the rink. Yuri, Mila, Yakov, Lilia, and even Georgi. 

He rarely smiled, the man he set his eyes on, but when he did, Victor felt his heart throb naturally. It was weird, the way he’d react so naturally around the man’s emotions. He doesn’t _even_ know his name.

And he _wore_ that ring. That golden ring that looked old and ever so familiar to his blue eyes. He remembers seeing it somewhere in his apartment, the memory of it everywhere and a little fuzzy around the edges. The one standing out the most, morning sea breeze floating wisps in the air and it was shining against the sun with blue clouds slightly overlapping. The ring glimmered on his finger- _his finger?_

Victor shook his head, unable to fathom whatever was going on his head. It seemed too farfetched to even find a similar one lying around his belongings. That remark doesn’t sound right to his ears.

Next Sunday morning, he finds himself donning it as an accessory on a silver chain necklace to practice. It feels wrong, being placed there. He wears it on his right hand instead.

_Perfect._

* * *

“You know, I hope he remembers soon, Yuri. It just feels wrong this way. Hell it’s felt wrong for the past few- Ah, there he goes, gone again,” he hears Mila speaking to an invisible Yuri.

His head racks for someone they might be talking about and it all but points to that one person he can’t bring himself to talk to. That raven-haired man with that pretty evocative free skate program. The man with no name.

 _They know him? Impossible. Well, it’s be impossible for me, since well… well, it’s just hard because. Because you like him?_ _No! Shut up!_

“Mila?”

“Ah, shit,” she mumbled, as she broke in a forced smile, “Hey, there Victor, dear.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“No one special.”

He gazes into her eyes with a dirty look and she returns it, it felt hostile, more hostile that he’s ever seen her for a while. It’s dark, tired, annoyed; her look sent chills down his

“You’re lying.”

She turns around, her red hair flipping against the incandescent rays of the light bulbs. Mila stops, three steps away from the exit door, and sighs saying-

“Find out yourself. It’s what he would’ve wanted.”

* * *

“Oi, katsudon, dinner’s here! Get your depressed ass over here in the dining room,” Yurio hollers over as he slams their apartment’s door.

He hears him loud and clear, but he refuses to move. The cold night breeze passes by him, and it’s solemn for once, he watches the clouds move across the night sky. There are hushed voices of women and men close by, but they’re too far for him to clearly hear.

“It’s going to get cold you know!”

Yuuri mumbles a tiny reply of a meek ‘yes’, and he sat down across the table. Ignoring the burger bought for him, he went ahead and just munched on the very much soggy fries. It tasted bland but he ate it anyway as he scanned the room around him.

Yuuri felt uncomfortable in this place, there was a cat around and it wasn’t the same when he was around Makkachin, it was a huge change to be living in as Yurio’s roommate. It was new, crowded, but it was _something_. It hurt though, every moment, his mind drifted towards the day it had happened and when he woke up to find out the news.

_That he couldn’t remember three years’ worth of memories, and that- **that** included him, their relationship, the year he came to Hasetsu and everything else after that._

He was slightly bruised, but Victor was a mess- a concussion, a terrible one at that. Then he had small cuts on his arms. He didn’t wake for two weeks and every day he’d come and stop by and try to smile. A smile he didn’t deserve to make, not in front of someone he loved set down in this antiseptic smelling place.

When he awoke, Katsuki Yuuri wasn’t there.

* * *

He did it once, twice, and a last time- the memories repeating in his head like a broken record but it felt more free than ever. It felt like he was relieving himself of the pain and burden he carried around. 

It always started with a small happy memory then him in the car he was sat in. All of a sudden, the glass around the would break and jumping as if trying to get back up, he’d fall. Again and again, countless times. It’d end with him, his eyes closed then looking at the sky, his arms pointing at someone.

He opened his eyes to see them pointing to a blurry figure across the rink. The rink was supposed to be reserved until Yurio and the others would come by. It was a Thursday too. There shouldn’t be anyone here, not a single person. The man then started clapping and as he skated closer, he found himself face to face with a man he hadn’t seen for several months.

His breath hitting his chin, he looked at him saying his name as if in shock, “Victor…”

“Hi… um, yes, I was here to ask for your name.”

Yuuri looked at his face for some evidence that this was some kind of joke and after he found himself staring in Victor’s bright crystalline eyes, he got this urge to grab his innocent face and kiss him. Kiss his pretty pink lips and it'd be all fine.

Instead, he broke the stare and found Victor in a daze as if he was hit with a brick or something similar. After a few, Victor said, “You have the same brown eyes as Yura.”

“Yurio?”

“What? No, I just think _Yura_ is his name. It’s like Yu- Yur.. I can’t really get it,” Victor explained.  

“I’m Katsuki Yuuri, by the way,” he states it out loud echoing as it bounces off the walls of the silent ice rink.

“Right, I’m Victo-”

Yuuri breaks into a laugh and in a broken phrase he manages to get it out, “Y-yes. We know, Nikiforov.”

“Right,” Victor’s hand runs through his hair and out of nowhere Yuuri finds himself placing his hand atop his. At first it feels like a sudden spark out of an electrical circuit. A blush then creeps up his cheeks. He removes it, only for Victor to grab his wrist and ask, his face extremely close to his bushing one.

“Mind going out for a cup of coffee with me?”

“Yes.”

* * *

“I know I fucked up okay?”

“You fucked up, big time, katsudon! You, you, agh!” Yurio was pacing around the room in anger.

Yuuri badly wished the twenty-one Kazakh skater was here to calm the quite aggressive Russian skater right now. He’d be a little calmer with Otabek around, after all, he’d have this quite huge crush on him which was only oblivious to the Kazakh himself.

But that wasn’t his problem, not as of now. His problem?

_Victor Nikiforov, a man he really shouldn’t have paid attention to._

Which he did the opposite off, a result after drinking himself to oblivion only to find himself in Victor’s apartment the next morning. He tried to leave, but before he had successfully done so, Victor had gone ahead and asked him to stay.

Another thing he really shouldn’t have done, but he really was remembering, for some reason. Plus, the bed had looked inviting. It really wasn’t supposed to happen, but somehow, his rationality was clouded by Victor’s raspy morning voice.

He was alluring and although knowing it was wrong, the kisses made it feel right than it has ever had these past months. They’re a series of pecks that turned into addicting ones and those were the worst types of kisses that Victor offers. Teasing him relentlessly, until he gave in, devouring his very being.

“You have to fix this,” Yurio blatantly orders to which Yuuri replies-

“No.” 

“Look, I don’t what’s going on that head of yours, but it’s wrong, whatever you guys did. It’s fucking wrong and you know it is! You should’ve done it the rati-”

“Fuck rational, Yurio! Hell, my subconscious wanted this for all I know. I was drunk, damn it!” 

Yurio stops in his tracks and looks at him incredulously, screaming out, “The fuck?! You said you were at the café.”

“He’s starting to remember for some reason, and I don’t know how. I can’t let that slip by, Yurio,” he reasoned out looking at Yurio who looked annoyed being defeated at this conversation.

“I swear you’re both goddamn insufferable morons.”

Yuuri swears he hears him add, _‘I’m the same, so who cares, anyway?’_ with a sense of embarrassment; he knows that Yurio is hiding his blushing cheeks in mind of a certain person.

He closes the door and smiles to himself.

* * *

The night was blinking with stars and was graced with the presence of the extreme cold breeze and the bright moon watching over the peoples. Yuuri had felt pain, several times every day, but it was different this time. He watches Marseille shine in beauty as he leans against the freezing iron railing of the balcony.

Sipping the hot coffee, as strands of his hair sync in with the breeze of the Marseille air, he feels a kiss on the nape of his neck. It’s quick and sudden, but Victor decides to nuzzle closer, wrapping his arms lazily around his hips. 

Yuuri leans his head, careful not to mess his hair. He feels a indolent smile creep up his lips and taking a sip from the almost cold cup of coffee, Victor breaks into a conversation, his voice, deep and raspy as if he had just woken up.

“It’s too early into the day to have cold coffee, Yuuri,” the Russian skater complains.

“Love you, too.”

He feels Victor’s arms wrap tighter as if insecure of him disappearing. He’s been like this for a while, a long while, but it’s those moments that Yuuri is reminded that this real and that he can remember.

“I love you so much,” Victor declares it like he’s trying to make it burn into his mind.

“I’m right here by your side.”

Victor let’s his grip fall from him and Yuuri sets the useless cup of coffee down on the oak dresser. Victor stands by the frame of the sliding window door and as Yuuri sits on the messy bed, he looks at Victor.

He has dark eye bags caused by nightmares, his lips chapped on the edges, and disheveled hair. Victor’s blue eyes shine brightly almost parring against the moonlight behind him. He shines so brightly like a flame on a candle and it’s the brightest of them all. Almost close to giving up, but it burns in a hot pool of candle wax.

_Still beautiful._

“Stay?”

“Like always.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, feedback are just as amazing as cookies ☆⌒(≧▽° )  
> -  
> hoped you liked it~ _(please leave kudos if you did!)_ (⌒‿⌒)  
>  -  
> rant to me about victuuri or yuri!!! on ice anytime on my [ tumblr](https://chrischaa.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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